The sky is light,

Which is just right.

But once it’s night,

There is a new sight.

It is insightful and dark.

No one can see the park,

Wishing for use,

And attention.

 

The sun.

Isn’t it fun?

It weighs many tons,

And always seems to run.

No one sees the moon.

And his lots of lonely room,

Wishing for use,

And attention.

 

The moon is dull,

And only seems to mull.

He cannot cull,

Whether he should pull,

Out of the dark,

So people can see the park,

Wishing for use,

And attention.

 

Is it his size?

He can surely rise.

He is shaped like pie,

So who could deny?

Afraid of rejection,

Sticks with protection,

Wishing for use,

And attention.